The Red Umbrella (6 page)

Papá placed my hand against his cheek. “To set an example. Scare anyone who might think of going against the revolution.”

Mamá shook her head and played with one of her diamond earrings. “He was a pharmacist, for heaven’s sake,” she muttered, “not a threat to anyone.”

Papá looked back toward her. “They don’t care. A dialogue. That’s all he wanted. He was organizing a group to talk about some of the changes being made, the rights being taken away that he felt weren’t in keeping with the original ideals of the revolution. He wanted a simple, peaceful protest to give voice to what so many feel is a betrayal of what the revolution was
supposed to do. But that was too much for them.
¡Cobardes!”

A giant lump formed in my throat at the thought of Papá doing something against the government. “Papá, promise me that you’ll never do anything like that … ever. Please!”

He turned to face me again, his eyes moist with tears. “Don’t worry, Lucy. Nothing is going to happen to me or to any of us. I’ll do anything to protect this family. But I need—”

“Hi, Papá.” Frankie trudged into the room.

“Come here,
mi hijo
. How do you feel?” Papá picked Frankie up and gave him a hug.

“Mamá says I have a fever.”

“I know.” He carried Frankie over to my bed and sat next to him. “But you feel good enough to listen to some important things I have to say. Right, little man?”

Frankie nodded. I could see how much he loved to be included in family discussions.

“I was just going to tell your mother and sister that, from now on, I want all of us to sit outside on the porch, every evening. It’ll show that we have nothing to hide from the CDR. We’ll smile and act like everything is fine.”

“Isn’t everything fine?” Frankie asked.

“Of course it is,” Mamá answered.

Papá shook his head. “No, Frankie, everything isn’t
fine”—he reached out and grabbed Mamá’s hand—“but it will be.”

Mamá’s shoulders seemed to drop a little and she smiled.

“I still don’t like the idea of either of you going to any meetings, but otherwise we’re going to do everything else our neighbors do,” Papá continued. “And, Lucy, going to the dance on Saturday will help, too.”

“But I don’t want to go anymore,” I said.

Papá pulled me toward him and gave me a kiss on the top of my head. “You have to, Lucy. We need to show that we’re not keeping you away from the revolution.”

“Fernando, if she doesn’t want to, is it really that important? She’s been through a lot.”

“I wouldn’t ask if it wasn’t needed.” Papá stood up. He paced around the room rubbing his temples. “Sonia, you should know that an army captain came by the bank today. He mentioned that he was surprised to hear that my children weren’t involved with the Jóvenes Rebeldes or Los Pioneros. He insinuated that if I couldn’t teach my children how to be good revolutionaries, then maybe the government should take on that responsibility.”

Mamá covered her mouth. “You don’t think the rumors are true, do you, Fernando?”

“What rumors?” I asked, looking at my parents to try to understand the coded language they were speaking.

Papá ignored my question. “I don’t know if it’s true.
Eduardo at the bank swears that his brother saw a document with a government seal on it discussing
patria potestad
. But who knows?”

“Patria potes
-what?” I asked, sitting up straight in bed.

“Yeah, what is that?” Frankie asked.

“Nada,”
Mamá said. “Nothing either of you has to worry about. Fernando, let’s talk about this later, but Lucía, your father is right. We need you—”

“I know.” I sighed. “I need to go to the dance.”

“
¡Levántate!
Look what time it is.” Mamá threw open my bedroom curtains.

“Ugh.” I put the pillow over my face. Mamá’s famous chamomile tea with
tilo
and
anís
had helped me go to sleep even though I was convinced I’d only have nightmares.

“Let’s see what you plan on wearing tomorrow night,” she said.

I peeled off the pillow and squinted as my eyes adjusted to the room’s brightness. Did she think I could forget about what happened yesterday?

“
¿Qué te vas a poner?
Maybe you can wear that pretty yellow one that you wore to Camila Renderon’s wedding a few months ago.”

I shook my head and pointed to the pink dress
with the white eyelet trim hanging on the door of the closet.

“Ah
sí, bien lindo
. Did you try it on to make sure it still fits?” Mamá walked over to check the hem.

“It’s fine,” I muttered. There was nothing she could say to make me feel better. I was only going to do this because we needed to keep up appearances.

“No, better let me see it on. I can let out the bottom another inch or so. You’ve grown since you wore it during Christmas.”

I sat up in my bed. “Mamá, dresses are worn shorter, anyway.”

“Just try it on. Then we’ll decide. How about shoes? You’re almost the same size as me. You want to wear my pink heels? They’re not too high, and I think they’d look nice with the dress.”

I smiled at the thought of Manuel seeing me in my best dress and pink heels. I’d look so grown-up. I stretched and walked over to the mirror.

“Yeah, I guess the heels would be good. What about my hair?” I picked it up into a French twist and looked at myself from different angles.

“Hmm, sounds like a question for Ivette.” She paused for a moment. “Better ask her when she gets here in a few minutes. I invited her and her mother over for lunch.”

I let my hair drop as I spun around. “She is? You did?”

Mamá nodded. “A girl can’t plan for her first dance without her best friend. Plus, I need to mend some fences.”

I tackled my mother with a huge bear hug. Everything
was
getting better.

*  *  *  *  *

“Chica
, you don’t look too happy. I thought you’d be more excited about going to the dance.”

Ivette grabbed a nail file from my dresser.

“I am happy.”

“Yeah, sure. You had that fake smile all during lunch. You’d think we were about to take one of Señora Cardoza’s final exams or something.” Ivette plopped onto my bed. “You’re going to get to dance with Manuel. You should be on cloud nine. This is
the
Manuel. Boy of your dreams, remember?”

“I know. I
am
excited.” I flashed a smile so exaggerated that my face hurt. “See?”

“Better not smile like that. Manuel’s gonna think you’ve gone crazy or something.”

I opened the bottom drawer of my dresser and started organizing the socks and silk scarves inside. “He may not even want to dance with me. I might just sit there all night.”

“
Ay
, you are in a mood!” Ivette stopped filing her nail and looked at me. “I know for a fact that Manuel wants to dance with you before he leaves on Monday.”

“How can you? You’re not a mind reader.”

“No, but Raúl asked me if you were going.”

“So? Why would your brother care?” I continued folding a yellow and blue scarf.

“Let me finish.” She blew the dust off her fingernails. “Raúl asked me because …” Her eyes twinkled.

Something was up. Ivette really did know something.
“¿Por qué?
Tell me!”

She bounced on the bed. “He asked because his best friend, Enrique, said his cousin only wants to go to the dance if you’re going. And you know Enrique’s cousin is …”

“Manuel!” I squealed and sprang up off the floor.

Ivette giggled. “Okay, that’s more like it. This is the Lucía I know!”

I jumped on the bed next to her. “Is Manuel really leaving on Monday?”

“Sí
. He’s all excited. My brother’s going, too.”

“He is? Aren’t your parents worried? Him being by himself and everything?”

Ivette looked down at my pink bedspread and started twirling a snagged piece of string stuck to one of the corners. “There isn’t too much to worry about. It’s very organized and it’s for the revolution. Teaching the peasants to read with all the other
brigadistas
. My parents say all students should spend some of their time doing that since they’ve had the privilege of receiving a good education in the cities.” Ivette shrugged. “I don’t really care about the teaching, but the traveling to other
places, meeting new people … that part does sound pretty cool. It’s not Paris or Rome, but it’s a start.”

“I guess.” I didn’t want to talk or even think about the revolution. “So, what did you decide to wear to the dance?”

“Ooh, my mother bought me this white dress with little black polka dots. It’s got a patent-leather belt around the waist. It makes me look like I’m at least seventeen. Very ooh-la-la sophisticated!”

“A new dress, huh?” I wiggled my fingers at her. “Well, aren’t we fancy!” I laughed. “People might confuse you with one of the rich girls.”

Ivette gave me a smirk. “Ha, ha. I guess Papá’s new job with the government does have some perks. Plus, it’s kind of a gift before I …” She bit her bottom lip.

“Before what?”

Ivette searched my eyes. “Nothing,” she said, and looked away.

“Ivette, what’s going on?”

“Nada
. I got the dress because it’s my first real dance, that’s all.” She rolled off the bed and opened my top drawer.

“Are you sure? Is there something else?”

“Nope. Nothing else to say except … what jewelry are you going to wear?”

I shrugged. “You’re the expert. What do you think?”

Ivette dug into my wooden jewelry box and pulled
out a gold chain with a white daisy on it. “Well, this just screams out ‘I’m a little girl,’ so forget this one.” Next, she picked out a silver necklace with a small cross. “Oh no. We can’t make you holy and untouchable. You’ll never get your first kiss that way.”

I blushed and nervously started to giggle.

“Can you picture it?” She draped the chain around her neck and swayed to imaginary music. “Hi, Manuel. Oh, of course I’d like to dance, but be careful if you hold me too close, because not only is my mother chaperoning, God is watching and you’ll be sent straight to hell.” Ivette couldn’t hold back her laughter. “No, this is definitely not the right necklace!”

I threw a pillow across the room and hit her in the arm. “You’re terrible!”

“Who, me?” Ivette dropped the chain back in the drawer. “Let’s ask your mom if we can borrow something. I’m sure she’s got something nice. I mean, this is like a dress rehearsal for our
quinces.”

I thought about how Papá had hidden all the good jewelry under the loose tile in the living room. “No. We can’t.”

She gave me a puzzled look. “Why not? What good is nice jewelry if you don’t wear it? I’m sure your mother will say yes.” She came back to the bed and sat cross-legged in front of me. “You’re really acting weird today.” Ivette pushed me back by the shoulders so that
I fell against the large pink pillows on my bed. “You need to let your hair down and relax. You’re way too tense.”

Doc Machado’s silhouette and lifeless hands flashed before my eyes. I shook my head. I wanted to tell Ivette what I’d seen. I took a deep breath.

“Ivette?”

“Yes,
señorita?”
She was now practicing how to dance the cha-cha-cha with my teddy bear.

“Yesterday, I, um, I …”

She kept moving to the imaginary song in her head. “Go ahead, spit it out. I can dance and listen at the same time.”

I couldn’t say it. The words just wouldn’t get out of my mouth.

“Nothing, never mind.”

“You’re just nervous about the dance. C’mon. Let’s go to your mom’s room and see what she’s got that you can borrow.” Ivette started walking toward the door.

I jumped up and pulled her toward the mirror. “Mamá doesn’t keep her stuff there anymore. Look, what should I do with my hair?” I piled it on top of my head and let a few wisps fall around my shoulders.

Ivette stood behind me and looked into the mirror. “Nah, don’t do that. Leave it down, but curl the ends. It’ll look pretty with the dress’s neckline. But you definitely need a nice necklace. Does your mom still have
that gold chain with the tiny hearts hanging from it? That’d be perfect.”

“I already told you, I can’t.”

“If your mom put it in the bank, then just ask your dad to pick it up tomorrow morning. He’s got the keys to the place.”

I lowered my voice. “It’s not at the bank. Look, you have to promise not to tell, okay?”

Ivette nodded.

“Papá stashed away some of our stuff … for safekeeping. Just in case.”

“In case of what?” Ivette twisted her mouth. “Isn’t that exactly what Fidel says we shouldn’t be doing? We’re supposed to be open with the revolution. Let them know what we have, in case there’s a better use for it.”

“What’s a better use for a necklace? My parents have worked hard for what they have, whether it’s in the bank or in the floor.”

“In the floor?”

I quickly shook my head.
“Nada
. Listen, your parents bought you a nice dress with money they’ve saved, and my parents are just saving up for whatever they want. It’s basically the same thing, right?”

“I guess.”

An uncomfortable silence filled the room. I glanced down at my hands and saw the ragged edges of my cuticles. I changed the subject back to fashion. “By the way,
have you seen these things?” I lifted up both hands. “I was going to wear white gloves, but I think I should have a nice manicure underneath.”

Ivette immediately perked up. “But of course! Those nails have to look nice. You need to have them pretty for when Manuel holds your hand.” She smiled and everything seemed to get back on track.

I let out a nervous laugh. It was crazy how just mentioning Manuel got me all jittery, as if butterflies were fluttering around inside of me.